


The Willow Tree

by Marcie1136



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: ADDED TAGS BECAUSE I GOT A NEW IDEA FOR THE STORY!!, AGAIN PLEASE TELL ME IF I MISSED A WARNING, Anaphylactic shock is described and portrayed, Anaphylaxis, And other gory details such as, Blood, Blood and Gore, But also warn you guys of everything, Death, Graphic Description, I tried to be vague to avoid spoilers, M/M, My favorite character died in a book I’m reading so I wrote this, PLEASE TELL ME IF I MISSED ANY WARNINGS :), This is sad. I’m just gonna say it., Vomiting, i apologize in advance.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:20:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28535790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marcie1136/pseuds/Marcie1136
Summary: Dream. Skeppy. Tommyinnit.All very different, but all have one thing in common:The Willow Tree.The Willow Tree that keeps them and their best friends, their brothers......six feet apart.
Relationships: !!!PLATONIC!!!
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	1. The Yellow Flower

“I’ll be the first thing you see with your glasses!” Dream exclaimed, standing in front of George and hopping excitedly. 

George laughed, holding the colorblind glasses in front of him. “You’re silly.”

They were standing on a grassy hill just outside of L’Manburg, shaded under the large Willow Tree. This was Dream’s favorite lookout spot because of the perfect view of the cityscape, and he thought it was only appropriate to bring George there for his first look at nature in full color.

Dream rolled his eyes in response to George’s previous statement. “Just put them on!” 

“Okay, okay!” George grinned as he placed the glasses over his eyes, blinking rapidly. His smile slowly vanished as he lowered his arms to his sides, turning in a slow circle. 

“Well?” Dream asked, hurrying to his side. “What do you see?”

George laughed in disbelief. “It’s so beautiful, Dream.”

“Yeah?”

George simply nodded, still turning. He suddenly smiled broadly, taking a few steps forward and bending over before straightening and turning back to Dream. 

In his hand was a bright yellow flower. He held it out towards Dream, nodding encouragingly. 

Dream took the flower curiously, inspecting it. “Why a flower?”

“I wanted to compare it.” George leaned forward, flicking his gaze from the flower to Dream. “Wait.” George frowned. “You’re actually green?”

Dream laughed. “Yes, I am!”

“You’re actually green!”

Dream moved to stand next to George, placing his arm over his shoulders. “Well, you want to go watch the sunset with me? It’s my favorite, and I heard the colors are really pretty,” he jibed jokingly. 

George nodded, laughing. “Yes please.”

. . . 

Dream lowered himself to the soft grass of the hill, sitting on his knees. Smiling softly, he placed the small yellow flower he held into the blue vase at the base of the Willow Tree before him. 

“I hope you still like yellow,” he whispered, his smile vanishing. “I like yellow.”

Dream removed his jacket, folding it and placing it on the ground next to him. He then moved to the tree beside the vase, leaning his back against it. Taking a deep breath, he looked up at the setting sun. 

“I wish you could see the sky. It’s my favorite time of day, remember? Of course you do,” he whispered. “You remember everything. That’s what I like about you. You always care about every minute detail.”

The wind howled in response, blowing his hair across his forehead. He closed his eyes as a hot tear fell down his cheek, dripping off his chin. 

“Or, at least, you used to,” he muttered, his lower lip quivering. 

“You used to.”


	2. The Checkered Ascot

Skeppy smiled as he tore off a piece of the loaf of bread he held. He was sitting on top of a tall hill in the grass, directly next to the Willow Tree. “What else do you need?”

Bad frowned, sifting through his inventory satchel. ”I could use more iron.”

Skeppy rolled his eyes. ”We’ve been mining all day, Bad!” He gestured to the purple sky. “It’s sunset!”

”Oh my goodness, ” Bad muttered under his breath. ”Fine, we can sit here for a bit. But we need to finish tonight.”

Skeppy leaned back against the Tree, cocking his head. ”What are you even trying to make?”

Bad shrugged. ”I don't know. Ant asked me to collect the iron. Blame him.” He laughed. ”No, I’m just messing with him.”

Skeppy shook his head. ”Well if he really needs more, we should head out then. It’s really going to get dark soon.”

Bad smiled, holding out his hand to Skeppy. Skeppy smiled in return, taking his outstretched hand and standing. 

. . . 

Skeppy awoke, blinking rapidly. It was sunrise, the sky a lovely shade of orange. 

He grunted, sitting up straight. It took him a moment to reorient himself, but he eventually realized he was still sitting on the hill, leaned against the Willow Tree. 

And in his fist was a black and white checkered ascot. 

Frowning, he wrapped the ascot around his wrist, tying it there securely. Using the Tree as support, he stood up and dusted himself off. 

Half turning, he placed his palm flat on the rough bark behind him, closing his eyes briefly. 

“Miss you, buddy,” he whispered. “I’ll see you again soon. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the part where he placed his palm on the Tree was inspired by the “Home home” joke if you know what I’m talking about.


	3. Mellohi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little language warning. This is a chapter with Tommyinnit, so you shouldn't be surprised.

Tommy rolled his eyes as Tubbo droned on. He had no clue what he was even talking about, but it wasn’t anything that interested him. 

“Tubbo, please,” Tommy said as they reached the top of the hill. “We’re here now. Can you shut up?”

Tubbo frowned, but didn’t say anything further. Tommy nodded in contentment, walking towards the tall Willow Tree at the hill’s peak. He sat in the grass at the base, removing his inventory satchel and sifting through it.

“Which one?” He asked as Tubbo slowly joined him, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I don’t care.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow skeptically, turning to him. Tubbo looked back, his cheeks burning red. 

“Fine. Mellohi.”

Tommy smiled, removing the purple labeled disc from his satchel along with his jukebox. 

He placed the jukebox on the ground, inserting the disc inside. They both sat in silence, listening to the low hum of the box as it interpreted the disc. Then, after only a few moments, a lovely melody began playing, resonating through the silent world around them. 

“Good choice,” Tommy told Tubbo, leaning his head back onto the Tree and closing his eyes. 

Tubbo smiled, placing his own hand on top of Tommy’s. “I knew it was your favourite.” 

. . .

Tommy struggled with the match as he shakily slid it across the match box. After six tries, the match came to life with a flickering orange flame. Tommy lit the torch in his hand, dropping the match on the ground, extinguishing the flame with his heel, grinding the match into the wet grass. 

It was still raining and he pulled his jacket closer to his body instinctively, shivering. He paused, glancing down at the jacket. He had forgotten that he was wearing it. 

It was a simple green jacket that was a little too small for him. It sported a bright yellow bee embroidered on the left side of the chest. Tommy hurriedly looked back up, away from the bee, a familiar heat creeping up from behind his eyes. 

”Dammit, ” he muttered. ”Damn you Tubbo.”

Then, like a river, tears began flowing down his cheeks and his hands began shaking. Slowly, he lowered himself to the grass, reaching into his jacket and producing a purple labeled disc. 

He inspected the disc through blurred vision, sniffling. A sudden anger filled his veins, and he threw the disc down the hill blindly.

”Damn you!” he cried. ”Damn you.”


	4. Friends Don’t Lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance.

Dream couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't move. Every emotion was tangled in his heart, overwhelming every sensory. All he could do was feel utterly helpless as he watched it unfold:

The murder of his best friend. 

Of course, in his shocked state, Dream hadn't made any move to track down the attacker, instead letting him run off free. In fact, Dream wasn't even sure of the identity of the attacker in the first place. 

But he knew for certain that George was flat on his back on the ground, gasping for air with a sword plunged deep into his torso, dark red blood splattered across the rough bark of the Willow Tree.

And all Dream could do was stand there. 

”Please-” George choked on his own words, weakly reaching out a shaking hand to Dream. ”Please, Clay-”

Dream felt something then, at the use of his true name. Something that started in his gut and spread throughout his chest and face. What is was, he couldn't say, but it forced him to fall to his knees and take George’s outstretched hand, quietly shushing him.

”You’re going to be fine, ” Dream said, cursing the way his voice broke at that final word. 

George shook his head, closing his eyes. ”Friends don't lie to each other.”

Dream felt his eyes burn as hot tears fell down his cheeks. ”No, they don't.”

”I guess I shouldn't be hypocritical then, ” George whispered. ”I said that I didn't like the sunset. But it was pretty.”

Dream laughed lightly, tears still falling freely. ”Was it?”

George smiled weakly. ”Yes.”

”Too bad it's over, huh?”

George’s smile vanished and he opened his tired eyes. ”No. It's not over.”

Dream stroked his cheek with his hand comfortingly. ”Yes, it’s over. Forever.”

George reached up and gripped his wrist with surprising strength. ”Promise me it’s not over.”

Dream felt a sob catch his throat. ”But friends don't lie to each other.”

George paused, tears of his own threatening to fall. He gazed up into Dream’s eyes for what seemed like forever before whispering, ”I love you.”

Dream could barely respond as he tried to stifle the sobs from his chest. ”I love you too. So, so much.”

George smiled in contentment, closing his eyes.

And they never opened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry.


	6. I Feel Bad For Whoever Finds You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick warning: mentions of suicide
> 
> That’s about it! Sorry I didn’t post for forever, I feel bad, but I’ll get the next chapter out very soon! Thanks for your understanding!

None of it made sense. 

Skeppy was just staring blankly as his best friend slowly slumped to the ground, his skin an even darker shade than his usual grey tint. 

Why wasn't he helping? Why was he just leaning against the Willow Tree like nothing happened? Why did he not feel anything as the body next to him grew perfectly still?

It was strange what years of watching violence can do to a human brain. It makes one cold, completely unfazed.

Or maybe it had nothing to do with that. Maybe the reason Skeppy didn't care was because it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. It was far easier to die than survive. So why was he still struggling to survive when he could take the simpler alternative?

No, the answer to that was obvious. It was because he had too much to live for. He glanced to his left, staring at the still body clad in black. Or, at least, he used to.

His hand instinctively went up to his neck. His fingers were cold against the smooth skin and his grip on his pickaxe increased. He then fell back against the Tree, slowly lowering himself to the ground and dropping his pickaxe to the grass. He looked up at the full moon, seemingly mocking him with its grin.

“Oh fuck off,” he muttered, raising his arm and shoving a rude gesture towards the sky. He lowered his arm, letting it drop to his lap. 

He scoffed to himself, glancing at the corpse beside him. He noticed something around his neck that he had always thought was peculiar. A black and white checkered ascot. 

Glancing around him quickly, he carefully reached over the body and took the ascot off of the body, inspecting it. The cloth was soft and physically cold. With shaky fingers, Skeppy tied the ascot around his wrist and stood, using the Tree for support.

Taking one last look at his friend’s dead body, he sighed. “I feel bad for whoever finds you in the morning.”


End file.
